


Breathe With Me

by teakturn



Series: 'Tis the Season [5]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Domestic Fluff, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Sweetheart, F/M, Fluff, Modern Royalty, Pregnancy, Protective Erik, Smitten Erik, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25236103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakturn/pseuds/teakturn
Summary: An encounter in a supermarket means breathing exercises in the kitchen.
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/Fallon King, Erik Killmonger/Original Female Character(s), Erik Killmonger/Original Female Character(s) of Color
Series: 'Tis the Season [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580824
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Breathe With Me

Fallon eyed the label on the jar of pasta sauce and weighed the pros and cons of just making her own. Jar sauces never managed to balance the acidity from the tomatoes right and there was only so much you could do to fix someone else’s’ mistake. Then there was the inevitable heartburn that would follow if she bought it.

Fallon rubbed her chest just thinking about it.

In the end, she decided against the pasta sauce and moved to set it back on the shelf. 

“Wise choice, ma’am.” a low, feminine voice spoke from behind her. Fallon turned to face her guard with a smile and led the way down the rest of the aisle.

It had taken some time to get used to having a guard shadowing her wherever she went. Fallon wasn't weirded out enough to reject the protection. She just didn’t know how to act knowing someone was standing behind her at all times. Someone whose entire job was protecting her life. The bathroom situation had been an adjustment, to say the least. But Fallon knew she’d have to make adjustments when she married Erik.

Just the thought of her husband was enough to bring a smile to Fallon’s face. She floated up and down the aisles like a beacon of light, glowing from within with love. 

Seven years of marriage found Fallon falling deeper and deeper in love with Erik. Her prince in a bespoke suit. He’d been strong for her while she dealt with all her confusing feelings towards her family. He was patient when Fallon chose her career over their relationship… more than once. And best of all he kept his promises. Trust had never been easy for Fallon but trusting Erik to be there for her, to love her, to let her love him came as easily as breathing.

They fit, and Fallon couldn’t be happier.

Whispers filled the aisle when Fallon stopped to smell the strawberries. 

She preferred to get hers from the farmer’s market when making jams or desserts. Erik was starting a garden on their property. He'd promised her ripe berries every summer and preserves in the winter. She set the strawberries back and bit her lip to fight a full-blown grin. She had an audience, after all, couldn’t let them see her smiling in the air.

Fallon turned into another aisle only to stop short when two teen girls ran up to her. Faniswa was between them before the girls could even speak.

“Wait,” Fallon called. Without a backward glance, Faniswa stepped aside enough to let her get a good look at the teens. 

Both were no older than 16 at least. They stared at her guard with wide eyes. Fallon could see they had their phones out and knew immediately that they weren’t a threat to her. 

“Did you guys want a picture?” Fallon tapped her guard’s shoulder. Faniswa moved enough for Fallon to step forward but her presence loomed over their interaction. 

Fallon tried to soften her guard’s actions with a smile and a welcoming wave closer, “What’s your name?” she asked the shorter one. Her skin was warm and rich, her eyes brown and ringed with just a bit of liner. She had on a cute sweater, skirt combo Fallon remembered wearing out to her last round of meetings.

“Breelynne,” her eyes cut to her friend, “I’m sorry I ran up on you I just-”

Fallon waved her off, “It’s fine,” her guard made a noise that made it clear that it was not. Fallon continued, “What about you? What’s your name?”

The taller girl smooth brown and pretty brown eyes. Her hair was piled in a puff at the top of her head, adding height to her already long frame. Fallon could see a ribbon, in the same pattern as her tribe’s in Wakanda, keeping the bun in place. 

“Precious…” she bit her lip and giggled, “Do you really shop here?”

Fallon laughed with her, “Sometimes. I feel like shopping for food is therapy.”

The girls nodded as if they knew exactly what Fallon was talking about. Or maybe that they agreed with her. Who knows, they were both too shy to say much else after that. Fallon had to all but commandeer their phones and take the group photo herself. After sending the girls on their way Fallon signaled to her guard she was ready to leave.

No sense of shopping at that point. As soon as she confirmed who she was paparazzi would swarm and Erik was still paying the court fees from last time. Fallon wanted to avoid the headache if she could.

Faniswa helped Fallon into the car and then whisked them away from the grocery store.

“That was nice. You shouldn’t be so hard on young fans like that. You’re supposed to be better than Erik at diffusing the situation.” Fallon adjusted herself in the backseat as she spoke. The seat belt fit awkwardly around her middle and she was still figuring out the safest position for it.

“Ma’am, my orders are to ensure that you and the heir are safe.”

Fallon almost scoffed. She was worse than Erik sometimes. One of Erik’s little soldiers plants a flag in her womb and now her baby was being called The Heir. Erik wasn’t even in line for the throne unless something happened to T’Challa and Shuri. Their baby wasn’t an heir of anything. But tell that to anyone besides Fallon and watch the nation roll their eyes.

“They were fans, Nini, they meant us no harm.”

Her guard's fists tightened on the steering wheel, “You must not read the comments on your social media.”

Fallon had nothing to say to that. She hadn’t read the comments on her social media in years. All her accounts had been overrun by a torrid of racist, royalists from countries not even in Africa. Fallon turned her social media over to her assistant and never looked back. She had a private, encrypted group chat with the family and used kimoyo beads for everything else. 

Even though she couldn’t see the comments she was sure they were as vile as ever.

“I’m not upset with you for doing your job. I understand what is at stake,” Fallon bit her lip, trying her hardest no to sound like a whiney one percenter.

She had problems only other celebrities and royals could understand. Yet Fallon refused to talk down to the staff around her. This made conversations where she asked for more autonomy and trust difficult. No one wanted to be the guy whining about his broken window when lives were at stake.

“Let’s keep glaring at teenagers to a minimum, how ‘bout that. Once we’ve established they’re no longer a threat you can relax.”

“Ma’am, this is my duty to the crown. I am never relaxed.”

Fallon sighed and pressed her head into the headrest, “Could you pretend? For appearances’ sake? It’s bad enough Erik’s out and about assaulting photographers…”

Faniswa grinned at that, the first sign of any emotion beyond threat on her guards’ beautiful face. Fallon couldn’t wait to give birth to this baby. Erik and Faniswa can focus all their scary, high skilled talents on them and leave Fallon alone.

* * *

Hours later Fallon was butchering one of their chickens and enjoying the comical look of disgust on her guard’s face. She’d seen the woman threaten to do things to a man’s genitals that were medically horrific. How a few chicken innards made her practically green Fallon didn’t understand.

Fallon raised a kidney and wiggled it in the air, “You think Rocky will like this?”

Faniswa glared at her and turned her head away, “Mfazi womtyholi!”

Fallon pretends to gasp, “I heard that!”

“Good,” Faniswa hissed.

“Fallon, stop torturing the help.” Erik’s voice preceded his arrival in the kitchen. He shocked Fallon so much she lost her grip on the kidney and it landed with a splat on the marble.

Faniswa gagged.

Erik turned into the kitchen with his nose buried in a tablet. The smell of iron in the air made his nose twitch but he kissed Fallon on the cheek without looking up from his work. As quickly as he came in he let himself out onto the back deck without a word.

Fallon smiled after him and finished her butchering without teasing Faniswa.

Now that she wasn’t doing it all for show, Fallon had the chicken in the oven with enough time to spare to disinfect and disassemble her countertop slaughterhouse. Erik returned to the kitchen as Faniswa waddled out, her arms full of a trashcan nearly her height.

“You puttin’ her to work,” Erik pressed close to get an armful of his two favorite things: Fallon and their baby.

Fallon kissed his dimple and buried her nose in his cheek, “I told her not to. I was gonna make you do it.” 

“Ouch,” he kissed her lips softly. One of his hands began caressing her belly.

Fallon sighed, “You think you can feel up _other_ parts of my body?”

Chuckling, Erik moved his hand to cup her ass, “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” she pulled him in for another kiss and lost herself in the feel of his lips.

They parted when Faniswa returned, separating to opposite sides of the kitchen with lingering glances at one another. With other people around they at least tried to act like respectable married folk. But so much of their relationship had them on different parts of the globe. They never got sick of each other and could happily be snuggled up all day if they didn’t have jobs and staff to manage.

“Status report,” Erik demanded. Faniswa joined him by the wine pantry and in unison, they activated their kimoyo beds.

Fallon ignored them, she had dinner to make.

Faniswa and Erik cross-referenced Fallon’s schedule, discussed her eating and bathroom habits, and weighed the pros and cons of building a gym on the first floor so Fallon could get her exercise in at home. They talked about her as if she weren’t there and Fallon cooked as if she couldn’t hear them. Six months into this pregnancy life and she’d learned to pick her battles where her husband was concerned.

They’d talked about kids early in their marriage but with Fallon in Wakanda full time and Erik in America full-time, it was universally decided that kids would wait. Years went on and their work saw them in the country more often than not until Fallon’s celebrity as a royal became too much for her to continue her career.

They’d spent two, romantic years circling the globe together and falling in love all over again. At the beginning of what they’d thought would be another year of travel, they’d conceived the bun sitting in Fallon’s oven and set down roots.

Marrying Erik had prepared Fallon for any and everyone being interested in what was going on in her womb. In the early years of their marriage, they were chased with pregnancy rumors. They never held weight because Erik and Fallon wouldn’t see each other in person for months at a time. And she knew fatherhood meant a lot to Erik. He’d been robbed of a childhood with his father and Fallon knew it was important to him that he be there for his kids. The way his dad would have wanted to be there for him.

Fallon had been prepared and sure everyone had gotten a little scary after the first ultrasound, but she didn’t let it bother her. For once everyone else was an anxious mess while Fallon was just along for the ride. The baby would come when it came, all she had to do was keep herself healthy enough to carry them.

“Babe! What’s this about a security breach at the market?”

Fallon turned and shot a look at Faniswa, in a calm voice, she said, “No security breach, just some fans trying to get pictures.”

Erik made a face that let her know he didn’t like that answer. His nose was all scrunched and his jaw was tight with worry.

“We can’t be having people get to close to you, baby. After the anthrax scare-”

“That was a hoax,” Fallon countered, “Meant to scare us. And we survived it and have been a step ahead of any threat ever since.”

The mail threat had been a prank targeting all major world leaders. Fallon was certain the only reason they received anything was because of how often their names had filled the headlines. They weren’t involved with the royal side of the family like T’Challa and Shuri. Don’t tell Erik that though. The threat had shaken him and he hadn’t had peace of mind since.

“Which is why you need to listen and not let strangers run up on you. You don’t know what those girls could have wanted.” Erik’s words were softened by the sincerity and worry in his brown eyes. He couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to Fallon or their baby.

Fallon tried to be considerate of his feelings as she said, “I understand. But I want to reiterate that these girls were not a threat. We haven’t had a death threat sent our way in years. And even if Faniswa couldn’t save me-”

Her guard looked offended by the very thought. Fallon rolled her eyes but continued.

“I know you have plain-clothed agents trailing us every time we go out. I know I’m very special to you and you’re all trying to protect me from the very worst. But we can’t treat everyone like a threat. Teenage girls that try to dress like me are not a threat to me.”

Erik scoffed but declined to contradict her. They both knew his paranoia could get the better of him but he refused to budge. Fallon’s protection came before everything else.

Abandoning her food prep, Fallon looped her arms around Erik’s tense shoulders and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, “Breath with me. I wanna see if I got the technique down.” 

Together they went through the birth breathing exercises from their baby classes. Fallon rubbed Erik’s back in sweeping circles until she felt the tension bleed out of him with every breath. Soon, he was like putty in her arms. Fallon supported his weight and rubbed his back and reassured him that she was here. _They_ were here for him.


End file.
